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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27479437">An Interesting Acquisition</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allswellthatends/pseuds/Allswellthatends'>Allswellthatends</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dom/sub Play, Eventual Smut, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Hannibal and Will want a new project, Hannibal is the dom, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Manipulation, No Beta, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Post-Canon, Pretentious, Scotland, Threesome - F/M/M, Will is like the 2nd in command, fancy flats and houses, they spent time in cuba then decided to be dramatic again in scotland, they're still rich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:00:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,960</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27479437</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allswellthatends/pseuds/Allswellthatends</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after traipsing around Cuba together, Hannibal and Will decided they needed a change of scenery and some further intellectual stimulation. Glasgow it was, full of history, art, and Hannibal was able to secure a teaching position under a new name at the University. Their new lives had started over yet again, but they were hungry for a new challenge, project, some excitement to devour together. </p><p>Lena was just a lonely woman who decided she wanted excitement as well. She picked up her life and moved to Scotland hoping it might fix what she felt falling apart in her old life. That was until she unwittingly fell into hands that would turn her craved excitement into a nightmare.</p><p>*** </p><p>Started out as pure smut but I added a plot b/c I can't be managed. Not beta'd. Enjoy!</p><p>Will contain extremely dubious consent due to circumstance and the ability to consent within that circumstance. Will warn in notes before anything happens!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hannibal Lecter/Original Female Character(s), Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter/Original Female Character(s), Will Graham/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>138</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! This started off as a self indulgent PWP but here we are. The themes can get graphic and there is dubious consent later on in the story, so please be aware of that. First ch. is mostly intro! Ty for reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lena watched the snow in the air, like a whisper over the rooftops of Glasgow, the scent curled around the stone and soot. It made her feel whole, and heavy. The world was shifting into wintery wonder, and she would be able to find a semblance of peace. After eight years in Boston she’d felt drained, defeated, all her dreams had fallen to ruin, her friendships had complicated and shifted, leaving her sweating alone in her apartment. Grad school had always been her goal, but she had to admit that it was an escape, it was a cowards act, running away from a life splitting at the seams. Splitting in the way a root grows through concrete, barely noticeable until the crack was too wide to fix. So she ran. But it was a good escape being a world away, she’d found a place among those she drank with, laughed with, created with when she wasn’t knee deep in schoolwork. She’d even found people to explore with, jetting off for a weekend to Budapest or Nice. It was everything she wanted, but the future felt unsure, unhinged, like she had no control over where she went or where she’d end up. It was the same feeling of being on the edge of a ledge, if she could just flick one foot over, maybe fate would take control and she’d fly-- even if it meant she splattered on the rock afterwards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Each step like a ticking bomb as she passed by faces she knew and did not know. She was a child playacting at scholarship, constantly worried that her more cultured peers would look at her and see nothing but a player, a phony. But then she’d see Lorn smile, or Erik would clap her back and mention her articulate argument with their professor, or Celia would link her arm through Lena’s and pull her along to drink themselves silly. Even when her mind whispered that each word she wrote was a mistake, each breath a challenge, as more and more pressure rained down on her, there were always those who offered a tether. And the snow could be a reprieve, a rescue, just like the smile of an old friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow.” She hit a shoulder, the impact rocking her back on her heels. “Sorry!” And she kept on, glancing at the older gentleman she’d accidentally nudged in her haste. He watched her intently, with framed eyes, almost like moons pulling from his angular face, and Lena automatically smiled an awkward American grin, pressed lips with little sentiment behind them. He grinned back, just the slight edges of his lips moving up as he nodded and turned away again. Beside herself, she turned her head slightly and watched him move down the hall, he wore a tailored herringbone suit with black loafers, a wool coat slung over his arm and a simple briefcase in his other hand. His hair was cut well, straight brown with grey feathered into it. Lena shook her head and turned away, unsure why her eyes were drawn to the man. He was most likely some professor of Literature who got off on Tolstoy or Hugo. Even though she had to admit, she also got off on Tolstoy and Hugo, but that was beside the point.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she arrived at her cube in the library she leaned her head against the cool window, taking a breath. She had a paper to write and too little time to read all the books she needed to read in order to do it justice. The Italian Masters kept her awake at night, spinning their brushes with ease, and she had to connect such a thing to the production of Othello by the National Swedish Theater, how they used the mythos, the color theory, the blah, blah, blahhhhhh. Mostly, she just wanted to throw all her books through some glass, watch it shatter like snowfall and go to sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes fluttered with exhaustion as she felt a tingling sensation on her neck, waking her up, an intuition she’d learned from years in a big city-- eyes were on her. Glancing out the window, someone caught her eye amid the blanket of speckled white that would melt to slush by morning. It was him-- the well dressed professor-- he was sitting on a bench in the courtyard, reading a book. She watched him for a moment, more out of idle curiosity than anything else. His face was incredibly focused, his hair salt and pepper, neatly pressed.  Just as she went to look back at her work his head cocked up slowly, and their eyes met. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He can’t be looking at me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She thought and turned away, only to glance back, his eyes still fixed on her window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena turned back to the page and shut her book. After hours of staring blankly at the pages she packed up her work and rubbed her eyes, unable to shake the feeling of his piercing eyes through the window, like the eyes of a ghost, they lingered on her cheeks and she couldn’t get her head to steer from the image. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On her walk home she felt it again, like a phantom lingered just outside her field of village. But she shook her head, taking out her clip and letting her dark hair flutter around her shoulders.  Unnerved and restless, she popped into her favorite pub near her flat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fancy seeing you here.” Conner quipped from behind the bar in his thick Glaswegian accent. “What’ll it be?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thistle.” She rubbed her face. “And a shot of whatever you recommend for burnt out eyes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Long night with some words as a lover? Or were you out with a real boy?” He poured something dark and brown and whiskyish. “Cheers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They drank them down and she let the burn fill her belly. “Words and paintings and words and paintings. It never ends. Sometimes, I wish I’d just gotten some desk job in a simple city, lived a simple life, been miserable like everyone else. Somewhere like Philadelphia.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soon this will be over and then you won’t end up axe murdering your coworkers out of sheer boredom.” He winked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She swatted at him from across the bar and drank her cider, pulling out the book she was currently reading. A romance set in the Middle Ages in Germany, of a young woman forced into circumstance, who fell in love with the man she once disdained, when she saw the ugly beauty within him. Classic trash. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The night turned to witching hour and she kissed Conner goodnight, wrapping her scarf up around her chin as she paddled home. As she fiddled with the key to her outside door she felt it again, and turned around. But no one was there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” She said, half way inside. But nothing answered and she shook her head, feeling insanity drip down her spine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next day she was leaving her advisors office when she once again collided with the handsome professor. Yet this time it was her books that flew everywhere, spreading papers around them like a fresh flurry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apologies.” He said in an sly eastern accent she couldn’t place. “Italian Renaissance?” He asked, helping her pick up a particular book. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” She answered quickly. “Thank you. It’s for a paper I’m working on.” She mumbled, reaching for the book with a taut smile, something about his gaze directly on her unnerved her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Though I commend Dr. Fucili, Dr. Vinastia has a more dynamic take on the later part of the era, especially the Florentines. She understands their depth of violence, often utilized to show love. A murderous love of God, often told through their brush strokes.” He did not give her back the book and grinned again. “I’ve been quite rude since our last coincidental meeting, I hope you can forgive me.” He held out his hand. “Dr. Lendon, I’m a professor of Art History.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Professor.” She said, taking his hand instead of taking the book. Once again his eyes pierced her and she faltered, holding onto his hand. His eyes were intently penetrating and unsettling.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you come to my office and I’ll give you some recommendations?” He let go of her hand and started walking, as if she’d follow without question. But not seeing what else to do without being rude, she did, trying to keep up in the bustling hall. “I didn’t get your name.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, Lena.” She said, trying to match his long strides, he was at least 6 feet tall and surefooted. The shoulder of his impeccable check coat brushed hers as she attempted to keep up, pulling her messenger bag higher on her own collar in a small struggle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it you study, Lena?” He asked easily, glancing down at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Theater History, I’m in the Masters program.” She explained. “I’m doing a paper on the Swedish National Theaters Othello from last season.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tilted his chin. “It was a fantastic production, the cast was flawless, most of all their Aemila. A work of art in her relation to Iago, who used the beloved imagery of Carivago to show us the boyishness of his inner demons. Not to mention the violence between the two of them that is framed by bloodier scenes, he enacted horrible things onto her, and yet there is still a thread of enduring love that electrified each time they came together on stage.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You saw the production?” She asked, a little shocked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I enjoy Shakespeare immensely, and Othello is a favorite of mine. I made a point to venture to see it. The artistry was unparalleled.” They arrived at his office and he ushered her inside, the walls were lined with bookshelves and a small bar cart hugged the underside of the large windows. Art was everywhere, original and some reproductions. It seems far too fanciful for a college professor, but she relished in it, being a lover of nothing more than museums and all things old, full of stories. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve seen the recording at least a million times, but it’s not the same. I love live theater, it’s so… visceral.” She gestured with her hand, watching as he suppressed a grin. “You can feel the blood and joy that goes into it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Visceral, yes.” He went to his bookshelf and retrieved the sought after book. “For your research.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you so much, Professor, it’ll be a great help.” She said as she took it, the air around him vibrated with an identity she couldn't’ place. It was unsettling, but alluring. Like the eyes of a snake about to swallow. “I should get out of your hair.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m in no rush, I enjoy talking to our next generation of academics, what makes them run headlong into the fire of uncertainty for art, music, life.” He sat on the edge of his desk as she hugged the book tight against her. “What makes you throw yourself to the fire, Lena? Do you wish to know the kind of blood and joy that you describe?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment her mouth hung open, lost for words, as rarely anyone spoke to her with such invasiveness. But there was a poetry to his words that intrigued her, and she rattled her brain for an answer. “Art, words, stories... They remind us that we are not alone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grey eyes peered at her over his glasses as he hummed. “And do you often feel alone?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena laughed quietly, embarrassment filling her cheeks. “Don’t we all feel alone in who we are?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Touche.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m no more alone than anyone else, I’ve just made an excuse to dwell my entire existence in it. If you separate and indulge, no one can judge you for what keeps you warm.” She wanted to take the words back as soon as they were out of her mouth. “I mean--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand.” He waved his hand, as if realizing she was embarrassed. “But loneliness is brought by misunderstanding. Find that which understands you, and you it, and that weight may lift. You may find other things to keep you warm.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you a therapist in a past life, Professor?” She asked off the cuff. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps.” He smiled, his eyes fixed on hers. With the natural American aversion to direct eye contact, she looked away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really should be going, but I’ll be sure to bring the book back when I’m done.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please.” He walked to the door and opened it. “And feel free to stop by to talk if you’d like, I feel you have much to say about the ways of life and art.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” She nodded awkwardly, once again caught in his directness. Regaining her composure she said: “Have a good night, Professor.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You as well, Lena.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After he shut the door she hurried down the hall, for some reason her heart was beating fast, so fast and furious she couldn’t ignore it. The book was old and used, notes huddled the margins in neat script. One page was framed by small sketches, figures and bodies, perhaps he’d forgotten this copy was littered with almost graphic scenes… or perhaps-- she shook her head, ignoring it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hannibal turned his kettle on, looking out his North facing window and over the courtyard as the young woman made her way through to the central tower. Lena, a pretty name, nothing too familiar or modern, yet easy on the tongue. He figured she was no older than 27, American and artistic. Her hands were marred with inky splotches, no doubt from writing or drawing, and she had the scent of old books on her, underscored by her choice perfume which seemed to him simply the essential oil of Frankincense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Care to make two cups?” Will said as he walked through the side door. They tried to rarely be seen together at school, though they took their momentarily reprieve. After two years in Cuba, the cold grey of Scotland was a kind of paradise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Course.” He set out the china and poured the hot water over the two tea strainers, having anticipated Will’s coming. “How is your day?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boring.” Will admitted, sitting down on his leather sofa. “My teaching partner is an idiot, and these children make my neck ache.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shall we eat them?” Hannibal asked dryly, to which Will snorted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet at least.” He came up behind Hannibal and rubbed the space between his shoulder blades, over the two years Will had become easier with his affections and often more keen to show them in private. “Anything interesting for you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In fact, yes.” Hannibal handed Will his tea and leaned back on his desk as Will returned to the couch. “I met a young woman.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” Will sipped the tea. “The one I just saw leaving your office?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will we keep or kill?” He asked casually, and Hannibal grew warm with how easily Will accepted their life, and his ways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve not decided.” Hannibal sipped his tea, watching Will’s mind work. “We can always change our minds. I’d like to see if she’s worth the curiosity first.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will smiled. “You think she’ll be molded easily? Or will she put up a fight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think she is artistic, eager, and alone. Looking for something to grab onto.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll try and form an acquaintance then.” Will shrugged. “What is her name?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena.” Hannibal watched as Will took it in, testing it on his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty name.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Much more Renaissance in form, but a romantic at heart. I believe she’ll be interesting at least.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will smiled as he sipped his tea. “Then I’ll meet her, discreetly. What kind of tests do you have in mind?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She has good instinct.” Hannibal set his tea down and walked to his desk. “When she stood in here, I could feel her tense. Like she already knew to be in the lair of the beast.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we must ease her natural aversion.” Will shrugged. “Most people are open to letting walls fall if there is a reward on the other side.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what reward would be enticing for her?” Hannibal asked, writing a list on his pad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Us. The life we lead, it’s nothing but freedom.” Will stood and walked behind him, placing his hand on Hannibals’ shoulder. “You showed me to never be afraid of what makes me feel alive.” He kissed his ear. “There are many things to draw in a lamb.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal turned, letting Will lean into him slightly as he ran his fingers down Will’s cheek. “She will be a new journey for us if she proves worthy. She is a woman already, though in need of guidance, possibly a challenge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let's hope not too much of one.” He grinned into his cup. “Have you already researched her?” Will asked, amused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal shrugged. “She is from a rough home, her Mother is in a psychiatric hospital after multiple manic attacks. Her older brother is successful, but their relationship is strained. She came here for school because her father was born in the UK but he has no living family that she is currently in contact with. It seems she is very alone in the world.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lonely people can be driven to unprecedented heights.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If they’re just given a push of understanding.” Hannibal leaned in and kissed him almost chastely, before walking back to his bookshelf. “Let us show her we understand, and see what she does with it.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The tests begin. Hannibal and Will play some not fun games with our girl.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>contains violence and comfort, Hannibal is not very good with boundaries.  </p>
<p>I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lena sat in the coffee shop across from campus sipping on her cappuccino, her book was almost done and she was determined to finish it before the boys came to wrestle her to the pub. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, the cafe’s full, do you mind if I sit here?” A handsome man looked down on her, his curling brown hair shaking snowflakes off onto the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena scooted her books aside. “No, not at all.” Before she could embarrass herself by staring at him with his round glasses and perfectly Grecian features, she turned back to her book, almost hiding behind it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you only read romances?” He asked and she peered over the top of the pages to see his eyes fixed on her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no. Guilty pleasure.” She blushed. “But not even, because Oscar Wilde said to never be guilty about your pleasures. So this is my not guilty pleasure, egregious historical romance novels.” Realizing she was ranting she smiled weakly and went back to her page, having lost her place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to agree. Never feel guilty about what brings you pleasure.” He laughed too, realizing the convention no doubt. “I’m Will, by the way. It’s nice to hear a familiar accent.” He reached to shake her hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, I thought you were a fellow Yankee, I’m Lena.” She took his long fingers stoutly. “Are you a grad student?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“PHD Candidate in Classical Music Theory.” He smiled again, the collar of his flannel reaching his ears as he shrugged. “You?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Grad student, Drama History.” She let go of his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love theatre, it’s very… visceral.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena looked at him as the Professor came to her mind. “Yes, it keeps you on your toes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Absolutely.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leeeeeennaaaa Beennna!” Donny came up behind her and squeezed her arms. “You ready to rumble?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, def.” Lena gathered her things and slid them into her messenger bag. “Hey, it was nice to meet you, Will. I’ll see you around, yeah?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We will, nice to meet you, Lena.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As her friend dragged her away, she looked back at Will, his nose buried in his notebook, but just as she was about to look away his chin popped up and they’re eyes met again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who’s the narc?” Guy asked. One of her friends from the international flat, he was French and never let anyone forget it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s a PhD student who needed a place to sit, come on you asshat.” She pushed them out of the cafe as they sang </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lena and Narc, sittin in a tree… </span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Halfway to the pub she realized she’d left her book in the cafe, but ignored it, thinking it would be nice to see those kind eyes again. Guy wrapped his arm around her neck and she smiled, leaning into their easy friendship, they were easy and uncomplicated. Which made them easy to let go, if ever need be. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This is what she was reading?” Hannibal asked, picking up the worn paperback. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Roses Unburdened.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “What does it tell you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I read a bit, it’s very-- uh-- graphic.” Will raised his brow as he sipped the cabernet they’d just opened. “Themes of unwillingness turned to willingness, dominating men who steal away their love into castles and forests. The main character is very possessive, and it’s been dogeared many times which makes me think she’s read it over and over.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The concept appeals to her in fantasy at least.” He hummed, setting the book down. “Where is she tonight?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At the pub with a gaggle of misfit men who I’m guessing she doesn’t need a lot of brain power to be around nor does she feel threatened by them, or pressured.” Will thought of the two idiots who’d gathered her from the cafe, he was already feeling possessive, knowing what a different time she could be having in the very room where he sat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal grinned at his obvious disdain. “Do you think she’s sleeping with either?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Will answered far too quickly. “I think she’s far too romantic for that, neither seem like the roses and honey type.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well see.” Hannibal opened his laptop and slid it across the coffee table. “I discovered this, her poetry.” The blog was stark black text on a white background, and Will’s eyes scanned over the sentences. Words full of violence and fervor, need and shame. “She feels much shame for what she wants. Fear.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can show her what it is like to live with no fear.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But first she must shed her skin of convention, as you did, Will. She must let all else fade away so she can bask in it.” Hannibal leaned back on the couch. “Perhaps we should see how she reacts in more pressing situations.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you have in mind?” Will asked, already seeing the cogs in Hannibal’s head move. He hoped she wouldn’t need to get too bloodied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a little surprise.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cheers to surprises, then.” Will murmured and they clinked their glasses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few days later Lena was finishing up at the library, it was Friday night and her phone kept buzzing. Texts from Donny, Guy, her friend Kate, all begging her to come down to the pub. But for once in her life she was so tired she decided to just go home and watch some movies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The streets were bare as she walked the back way to her flat, the snowfall quiet and soothing. Her mind wandered to the two odd men she’d met in the past week. The Professor was enigmatic, always near around the corner with a smile and nod. He was like a ghost in her peripherals, like a hunting wolf, always ready to strike. She felt herself becoming jumpy, not from fear that he’d hurt her, but simply knowing that he wasn’t all he seemed. It confused her in an enlightening way, there was a darkness in the curve of his lip and the ease of his words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then there was Will, the gruff, curly haired man who’d so easily bursted into her space with a raise of his petulant brow. They’d only talked once since their meeting, he was getting coffee from a cart and she slipped in right behind him, earphones in, book up, not paying attention until he turned over his shoulder and asked her how she took her coffee. Will was kind and got her the cappuccino, they sat on a bench and chatted about nothing briefly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.” A man’s voice in a thick Russian accent drew her out of her thoughts. Lena turned to see a modelesc looking man staring at her from under a hoodie. “Late for you to be about.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena just frowned at him and kept walking, speeding up her pace. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But soon a hand grabbed her and threw her into the alleyway. “Now that’s rude isn’t it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She cried out as her shoulder hit the pavement, pain blossoming through her arm as she struggled to turn over. “What the fuck! Get away from me!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her up, slamming her into the wall. “Not what I expected.” He murmured, throwing her off, but she took his moment of hesitance to head-but him directly, throwing him back but making her own head throb. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he was quick, reaching around and slamming her back down to the ground. Lena gasped as the air rushed out of her lungs and he stepped on her shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stay down.” He ordered as tears leaked out of her eyes pressed in the cold, grey mush that passed for snow. But Lena felt an innate rage bellow in her and she pressed her palms down, throwing off his foot with her body weight. “Fuck!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With the last burst of energy she had, she pushed herself up and out into the street. Unfortunately, he was quite fast and was on her again, lifting her up from behind and dragging her back into the alley, as his hand came over her mouth she opened wide and </span>
  <em>
    <span>bit </span>
  </em>
  <span>down hard. The taste of coppery blood filled her mouth as she hit bone. He dropped her, kicking her side as he cursed wildly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The world slowly blurred as the pain numbed, setting deep into her, the scrap of broken bottles on her leg, the impact on her ribs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A piece of glass stuck out near her outstretched hand and she weakly took it, feeling it press into her skin. The cut stung but she pushed past it, rolling away from the next kick and then doubling back and sticking the shard deep in his thigh, the side, to catch the artery. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes widened as he grabbed at the wound, stumbling back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena laid back, heaving. “Pull it out and you’ll bleed to death.” She warned darkly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulled out his phone and dialed, yelling over the line. But before she could say anything, a car came up and two other men pulled him in, leaving her there. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lena thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck… owwww fuck! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Each movement sent jolts of pain through her body as she tried to get to the wall to climb up it. But the cold was setting in, her scarf and hat discarded before the carnage had begun. She couldn’t wrap her head around it, it was like he was going to do something unspeakable, but almost as if planned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Footsteps came up in front of her and leaned down. “Lena?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the Professor. She twisted around and he cocked his head to the side, she felt something hot slide down her cheek as the world blurred and she blacked out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When her eyes opened she was on the green couch in her flat. The Professor was in her kitchen, pouring tea. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you feel?” He asked. It was odd to see him there so casually, his shirt sleeves were pushed up. “I apologize if this is unconventional, but I feared taking you back to my flat would have been even more so and could not detect any broken bones. You’re lucky nothing needs stitches.” He made his way to the coffee table and set down her tea as well as his own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena was still in her blood crusted clothing. “Why didn’t you take me to the police?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They--” He winced, obviously uncomfortable. “They would not hear the case, the officer who came by said you must have tripped. It seems they were paid off.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena shook, her hands were crusted in blood. “Thats-- how can--” Tears flickered from her eyes, running down her cheek like small torrents. “Fuck that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiled slightly. “Sometimes, we have no control over the violence done to us.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly shifting her legs off the couch she braced herself on her knees. Every part of her ached, but mostly her head throbbed. “It was so odd.” She whispered finally as he watched her intently. “Like he had no motivation at all. Like I was-- targeted.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Professor Lendon hummed. “Why do you think that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena looked at him, his eyes steady and she was once agin rocked with the oddity. “How did you know where my flat was?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I asked you, after the police left.” He smiled. “Come let's get you cleaned up.” He took her hands, pulling her up to a shaky standing. “I used to be a surgeon, you know. Made a late career switch, so don't worry. I can mend you up.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena nodded, still feeling foggy and the pain shut out all other concerns. He led her to her small bathroom, the old clawfoot tub was already running warm water. “Thank you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiled and shut the door, leaving her there to her own devices. Lena undressed and stepped into the tub, it hurt as she felt the small cuts from her leg smart. But once she was fully underneath she sighed, the heat leaching out her pain. Suddenly her head was heavy again and she felt herself slipping under the water, only to come up with a sharp gasp. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena?” He burst through as she gripped the sides of the tub, trying to cover her chest when she realized he was in the bathroom. “Apologies.” He quickly turned. “I heard a scream.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's just my head.” She touched the side of her temple. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let's have a look.” He said, and knelt, careful to keep his eyes on her face as he took her head in his hands, one braced under her chin, the other looking at her pupil dilation. Oddly, it did not seem odd to her that he was there, nor invasive. His calm confidence washed any qualm away. “There may be some minor head trauma.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Professor?” She whispered, her stomach clenching in her throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?” He let go of her, leaning his arm on the tub. “You acted on instinct, Lena. There is no shame in that. It’s animal, don’t you think? Our base instinct, kill or be killed.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I--” She stuttered, resting her chin on her knees. “It was like I wasn’t in control of what I did.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does that make you afraid?” He took the sponge from where she’d dropped it and began washing the blood off her back, careful to not touch her with his fingers. “You can tell me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena shivered as the sponge ran over her battered skin. “It made me feel… taut. Like I was the string of the fates about the snap and shatter everything I’d ever known as my life.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Caught between what you can predict and what you can’t.” He inferred. “When faced with choices, we decide if we are going to be the person we were taught to be, or to be the person we are. I think you were who you <em>are</em> tonight. A masterpiece worthy of Caravaggio himself.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena bit her lip, letting him wash away the last of the blood from the side of her face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He left again for her to get out of the tub and into her robe. When she came into the living room, he was pouring soup into a bowl. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here.” He pushed it towards her at the table. “Hunter's Stew, fresh venison.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It smells amazing.” She smiled as she sat, picking up the spoon and taking a sip. “It is amazing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With that, then, I’ll leave you.” He grabbed his coat. “Come see me, will you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Professor?” Lena stopped him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?” He raised his brows slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My pleasure to help. Enjoy the stew.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that he was gone and she locked the door, still reeling with confusion and another strange feeling. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she stopped herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He didn’t do anything… </span>
  </em>
  <span>But the oddity of the Professor being there, speaking to the police, then the casual comfort he slung her into while she panicked in the tub. Like he was expecting to do so. Shaking her head, she finished the soup and went to bed, too tired to examine her paranoia further.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Warnings: Non Con/Dub Con due to mind manipulation/hypnosis, abduction (? kinda) </p>
<p>Not full smut but smutty things are spoken of. Things around about to get messy but we're used to that in the Hannibal fandom. If it's not your cup of tea turn around and don't read. </p>
<p>Long chapter b/c I have no self control! Hope you enjoy!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next morning she wasn’t sure if any of it had happened. Her eyes stared at the ceiling until she finally raised herself up and looked down at her hands, knuckles wrapped and red. Each bone in her ached, sore and cracking with each tentative move.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena forced herself to stand up and start getting ready for her day. She wore a turtleneck to cover her scraps-- feeling a sly comfort as it hugged her skin-- and long plaid pants. Makeup did what it could on her face, the black and blue crawling up her cheek from where she’d hit the ground. She dabbed at the concealer again, trying to blend it further into her skin, but it only made her wince. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After an uneventful day of classes where she spent most of the time in a daze, Lena found herself at the pub around the corner from her flat, shuffling through papers and scribbles as she gathered her thoughts. It’d been her brother’s idea that she should publish her poetry, but so far it’d been more of a nuisance than anything else. She couldn’t ever feel the verses were right, constantly tweaking them with each read. But it was a good distraction from the night before. It kept her from walking down to the station and getting the scoop on her incident. She was no stranger to corrupt cops having grown up surrounded by them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena, right?” A familiar voice stole her from her work, she looked up to see Will from the cafe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, hi.” She smiled, pulling her sleeves down over her battered knuckles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m actually glad I ran into you, I went to the theater building to drop off your book and they wouldn’t take it. Do you mind?” He pulled her romance novel from his bag and set it on the table. Lena nodded, moving her papers over so he could sit. His eyes flicked to her cheek and he frowned. “Are you okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah.” She waved her hand. “Just tripped on some ice and fell into a bunch of stuff. It was not pretty.” Her laugh almost sounded genuine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, I see. Not steady on your feet?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ice is the demon that will drag you down with or without inherent balance.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very true.” He smiled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She picked up the book  and slipped it into her bag. “Are you gonna get a drink” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. My advisor was an absolute idiot today, the course schedule he’s trying to push me into is-- lets say, less than agreeable. What’ll you have?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, um, a whiskey. I’m not picky.” She smiled again as he winked and went to the bar. Conner looked over at her and she nodded that she was okay, grateful for his big brotherish tendencies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will returned with a gin and tonic for himself and a scotch on the rocks for her. “What are you working on?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m editing a book of poetry.” She gathered up her papers, but he slipped one away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He read. “Hm. Very good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” She laughed as he held it away, shocked that he was flirting so obviously. “I did not say you could read them.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re going to publish them, so anyone will be able to read them.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose and read further down the page. “Very, very good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks-- ass.” She took the paper, swatting at him, and put it away. “So what course does your advisor demand you take?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They talked, and talked, and a few drinks later they were flirting shamelessly with red cheeks, leaning closer and closer on the small bar table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I feel kind of drunk. Sorry.” She leaned back, feeling the heaviness of booze settle into her skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t apologize, want me to walk you home?” He offered, touching her arm. His hand had been hovering near hers all night, tantalizing close. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure. Home sounds good. This is your fault, you know.” She slurred slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I know.” He murmured as he helped her up and they walked arm in arm out of the bar. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Strolling down the cold street she started to feel even heavier and leaned on him, soon his arm weaved out from hers and around her waist. Lena’s addled mind flickered around her brain, she tried to count her drinks not thinking she’d had </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>much as they neared her flat. Then everything fell away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The next morning she woke up in her bed, clothes still on but shoes next to her. A glass of water and a pill sat on her nightstand-- the reminder of that terrible film </span>
  <em>
    <span>50 Shades of Grey</span>
  </em>
  <span> made her cringe-- but she took the pill and drank the water, silently thanking Will for his help. She didn’t even have his number to text him thanks for real. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pulling herself out of bed, she realized her head didn’t hurt in the way it usually did after browning or blacking out, it was more of a void, like she was reaching for something she couldn’t grasp. Shaking the feeling off she undressed and stepped into the shower, trying to get the sour taste off her tongue and the grimy feeling off her body. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Later on she lingered near the Professor's door, unsure if she should drop in. The night in her flat was heavy on her mind, they’d crossed an odd divide from casual acquaintances to an intimacy she wasn’t sure she knew what to do with. But she still felt like she had to be invited in, so she sat just outside his corridor, sketching in her little book a couple talking in the arch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see you have multiple talents, Lena.” The Professor said from behind her, she turned her head and smiled, knowing he would show up sooner or later. “Tell me what drew you to them.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello, Professor.” Lena moved her sketch so he could more clearly see. “The shape of their bodies against the stone, the contradiction of it, like Frederic William Burton’s Stairwell painting . How easy love is for the contemporary. How hard it’s been for so long.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is love still not hard for many?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, the ease and hardness of it is what makes it so desirable.” She answered gracefully, looking back at her sketchy lines. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you like a cup of tea?” He offered and she stood, following him to his office. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Inside the warmth filled her frosty cheeks and she slipped off her shearling coat. “Thank you, I actually had some questions for you about the book you lent me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you were waiting for me?” He asked lightly, putting the kettle on. “You look good, how are your wounds healing?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, just fine..” She answered awkwardly, pulling her sleeve down again. His eyes did not miss it and he closed the space between them, taking her hand and pushing the sleeve back to look at the fading red marks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very good.” He patted her hand and released her, returning to his task. “Actually, Lena, I was going to seek you out as well.” He used small tongs to lift fresh tea into metal filters. “I’m hosting a small dinner party tonight, I’m-- well, to say without being a braggart-- am a chef of a kind as you’ve tasted. I’d love it if you would join.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena felt excitement heat in her toes from the prospect. “Of course, I’d love to come. Thank you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door opened without a knock and a familiar voice struck her ear. “Professor, I have those papers from-- Lena?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning her head she saw Will grin. “Hi.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You two know each other?” The Professor asked. “I’m glad, two great minds. Will is one sharp young man, Lena. I’m sure he can discuss anything that flits through your head.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you?” Will asked passing by her, his hand gently brushing her shoulder. Where it touched her body heated but also winced from the bruises. She remembered how her shoulder pressed into him as they walked, easily laughing down the slippery street.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh-- good. I’m fine.” She answered, distracted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Will.” The Professor said as Will set the papers down. “Can you stay for tea?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t, sorry, but I’ll see you tonight. See you soon, Lena.” Will smiled at her and waved as he walked out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you and Will knew each other.” She said, as he handed her tea. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s wandered in from time to time, I have an acute tendency of collecting strays.” He leaned on his desk in front of her, and brought his tea cup to his lips. Without thinking she followed, sipping the slightly sweet varietal. “Will is brillant, his empathy is unparalleled. He will make a fantastic professor himself one day, though he has taught before, just never in the subject he now studies. There is a special pleasure in teaching, don’t you think?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I’m sure there is.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To be able to mold others into their potential, guide them. It’s a skill as well as a privilege, but one that must be earned through knowledge.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you always want to be a Professor?” She asked, sipping again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugged. “I wanted to be many things, but I tend to follow my tastes. They led me here more than anything else.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As did Will’s, I’m guessing?”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We found ourselves on similar paths. We have coffee most Friday mornings.” He said, eyeing her. Lena got the sinking feeling that Will had told the Professor about her embarrassing night, which somehow embarrassed her even more. “He mentioned a young lady, poet.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guilty.” She raised her hand as she sipped again. “He caught me editing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would greatly enjoy reading some of your work.” As if on cue she immediately pulled her draft from her messenger and handed it to him. “Please, Lena, sit.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pushed his glasses down and skimmed the pages as she sat. Unsure as to why she was simply sitting there waiting, she looked to the side, noticing the snow fall outside the windows, how soothing it was. It distracted her almost too easily and she blinked trying to focus back on him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It speaks of feverish intensity and violence mixed with need, a yearning for something to protect you.” He concluded and she could feel his eyes on her cheek. “Don’t you think?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Glancing back at him she nodded, lost in her own thoughts. “Protect me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This line here--</span>
  <em>
    <span>With a brush of happenstance/ We may have found comfort in a broken, bloodied world/ made of teeth to sink into, feel the flesh and you’ll know if it is the hall of their heart--</span>
  </em>
  <span> you seek comfort, a very human, electrifying comfort and contrasting such with violence, sometimes I think is almost… natural.” He looked at the pages again. “Do you mind if I keep this?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” She answered too quickly. “Of course, I’d love your notes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll read it closely, then.” He smiled sipping his tea and she followed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should-- Uh, I have class in a little bit.” She set the tea cup next to him, realizing how tall he was, how his body was firm, and how his chin tilted down towards her as she slowed. A phantom memory of his fingers on her skin, washing away her bloody ordeal struck her and she stood, transfixed by his eyes only to look down for a moment. “But I’ll see you tonight, Professor.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I shall see you tonight.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena rushed out, the cold air sinking into her skin as she shook off the unease that surrounded Professor Lendon like a cloud, yet it was a cloud filled with intoxication, and drew her closer with each breath. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Looking at herself in the mirror she wondered if she was overdressed. The fit and flare black dress was her go to for more formal occasions-- and funerals. It cut down in front like a sweetheart, and the sleeves were sheer but ended at her elbows in an almost 1950s style. Pearls would have made her look insane so she went with no jewelry and called her Uber to the Professor’s address, which had been emailed to her after she abruptly ran out of his office. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The building was old, overlooking Kelvingrove Park, the brick bright red and the iron gates imposing. She pushed through and walked up to the lobby door. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Buzzzzzzz.</span>
  </em>
  <span> They clicked open and she took the iron elevator up to the top floor, wondering how a university professor could have so much damn money. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena, welcome.” The Professor greeted as she walked directly into the flat, Will stood near the window, but she didn’t see anyone else. “Any trouble finding it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not at all, thank you for having me.” She said as he helped her from her coat, hanging it on a coat rack near the door. The room was tall and filled with warmth, emanating from the fireplace near the far wall. Leather chairs and sofas arranged tastefully for conversation, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>art, </span>
  </em>
  <span>so much art covered the walls. But the view was what took her breath, they could see the towers of the Old School and the rolling hills of the park. Lena looked down at the Turkish rug, and a strange familiarity filled her, the patterns piercing through her memory like déjà vu-- only stronger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Evidently her instinct to dress up was a good one, as the Professor wore a fine grey suit with a blue tie and a patterned waistcoat. Will wore a pressed white shirt tucked into brown pants with a slight check pattern. Both were far more refined than the men she was used to being around and it lit a small nervousness in her stomach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look good.” Will commented as a greeting, walking up to her and kissing her cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, not so bad yourself.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wine, Lena?” The Professor asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, please.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He handed her a crystal glass with red wine in it, she swirled it around and sipped it. Of course it was incredibly smooth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You seem to be healing well, still any pain?” He asked, looking her up and down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena sipped her wine again, glancing at Will. “Um, not much, just still a little sore.” She roasted her shoulder, the familiar ache peaking through the two IBuprofen she took. “Nothing to worry over.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope it wasn’t serious.” Will countered, coming up to her shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not serious at all. Ice, remember?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena knew how to handle herself well enough.” The Professor commented instead, winking at her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come, I want to show you something.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena followed him to his large desk before the fireplace, and atop it was beautiful vellum paper. “Oh, my.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Made in the original fashion, and I’ve a quill and ink right here.” He stood beside her as Will came to the other side, looking down. “See as I lift the quick from the ink…” He said slowly and Lena’s eyes followed, the ink dripping off the tip. “And easily as a scratch…” He swiftly made a letter </span>
  <em>
    <span>d. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s lovely.” She said, watching how the ink sunk into the grooves of the paper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad you think so. Sip.” He urged and she did without thinking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Following the </span>
  <em>
    <span>d </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wrote an </span>
  <em>
    <span>r. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sip.” She did again, deeply, only afterwards questioning her immediacy. As she went to look at him, he wrote </span>
  <em>
    <span>o</span>
  </em>
  <span> and she found her gaze fixed to the page. Her limbs grew heavy, and she found herself leaning towards him slightly. “Sip.” He said again and she did, leaning fully into his side, his arm came around her as he wrote </span>
  <em>
    <span>p. Drop.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sip, all of it.” Will ordered and she did, drinking the whole glass down as she slouched into the Professor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t--” Lena started, but the words felt heavy on her tongue, she groaned as something went to work in her head, pulling her down into what felt like a pool of honey. “Something-- in the wine…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perceptive.” The Professor murmured as he slid his arm around her waist, holding her against him. “Why don’t you sit down?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No--” She pulled away as Will took her glass. “What’s happening…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the Professor’s arm tightened like a vice as he pulled her around the desk. “Quiet now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait!” She had a spurt of strength and yanked, falling back into the bookshelf. Her breath came in heavy as he looked at her, curiosity in his face as he took a step towards her. “Stay right there.” She ordered weakly, her voice shaking as the drug filled her veins. It pulled her further down and she slumped against the wall, her grip weakening. Too focused on her hand gripping the bookshelf, she didn’t realize he’d moved in front of her again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shivered as his hand brushed hair away from her face, tracing down her jaw before taking it in his hand and tilting her head up to him. “There is no reason to fight, Lena.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her eyes went wild as she pitifully pulled back. “No…” Being the only word she could form. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let go. Let yourself surrender to the feeling in your limbs.” He whispered, his other arm wrapping back around her waist as she could no longer support herself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena couldn’t even nod as he basically carried her to a leather chair, slipping her into it gracefully. Will knelt before her as her mind tried to make sense of it all, panic was welling deep within her but it was cut off, like a fence had been closed about it and nothing she tried could let it break through. Instead, false security flitted through her, relaxing her with each breath. She even giggled when he slipped off her shoes and placed them next to the chair, the warm air feeling good on her toes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena.” The Professor’s voice stole her attention, but she couldn’t find him. “Lena, look up.” A hand came from behind her head and tilted her chin straight forward as a light moving in circles trapped her addled gaze. “Watch the light, as it flows, so too will you. Like snowfall, it dances before you as it falls, down, further and further, you cannot see where it lands, just that it keeps falling.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The light shone brighter and brighter, filling her vision, his fingers firm on her chin to hold her there, she could not look away. His voice did not stop, but she couldn’t listen to the specifics, all she could go do was watch the light. Soon the fingers fell away as her eyes widened and she murmured, missing the slight pressure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, Lena.” A hand brushed down her hair. “Now, can you hear me? If so, say </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” She whispered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” He was near her, yet she couldn’t tell where, all she could see was the light. “You will listen to what we tell you, and each time you accept what we say as a part of you, you will be rewarded. Do you understand?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Lena shivered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” His accented voice rasped sweetly, and she felt warmth emanating through her skin. “You are safe here, you are protected.” His hand brushed down her hair again and her body shivered. “Good, Lena.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Each time he said her name her hands tingled, and she felt her eyes begin to roll, his soft chuckle told her that he noticed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Each time you are separated from us, you will feel it like a hole in your stomach, there will be a need to be closer, to be held.” His hand brushed under her hair, the warm fingers resting against the back of her neck. “When Will takes your wrists…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hands, rougher, grasped her wrists firmly and she shivered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And when I take your neck.” His hand snaked around her throat, squeezing enough to let her know he was there, but not enough to restrict her breathing. “You will be unable to resist, falling into a place of obedience, you cannot resist it, you crave it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena’s eyes rolled back briefly as her body shook, keening up in the chair as their hands held her down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good girl.” He pressed his chin next to her head as he spoke. “Very good. This is your natural state, my dear, your natural position between us. Do you understand?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Lena went limp in their hands. His hand tightened slightly and released as she shivered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good girl. Now, drop.” And her world went black. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you like the lamb?” The Professor asked. They were at the table, Lena sat at the head across from him and looked down at the food in front of her. “Lena?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shivered slightly but her head felt blank, like it’d been scrapped clean by a dull knife. “Um, when did we sit down?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a few minutes ago, why do you ask?” He smiled, biting a piece of lamb. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena shifted in her seat. “It’s-- nothing. Where is your restroom?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Down the hall and to the left.” He went to stand to help her with her chair no doubt, but she was already on her feet, though shakily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Lena?” Will asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yes. I’m fine.” She said over her shoulder as she walked down the hall, the runner soft under her feet. Lena looked down, she was not wearing her shoes-- confusion filled her again. The bathroom door landed under her hand and she pushed inside, shutting the door with a huff. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the mirror she looked at herself, her hair looked slightly disheveled and her eyes were red, but what shook her bones was the reddish marks on her neck. She touched them, seeing the shape of fingers prickling on her skin and a pit dropped in her stomach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking a deep breath she tried to stop the shaking in her hands, and solidified a plan. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What is happening?  </span>
  </em>
  <span>She cursed her thoughts, trying to remember anything useful. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Get to shoes, get to the door, fucking run.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It wasn’t very sophisticated, but it would work. Slowly she opened the door and peered down the hallway, trying her best to make no noise, she stepped out and tattered into the main room again. Her wine glass sat on the desk, but her shoes were nowhere to be seen. Deciding her stockinged feet would have to do, she looked behind herself once more before slowly walking to the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Creek.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She stepped on a weak spot on the floor, freezing she waited to hear the Professor or Will, or both, that somehow seemed to be a kind of team. Dread rocked her as she realized they’d planned this, perhaps even planned their encounters with her. She’d fallen right into the trap, like an idiot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wrapping her hand around the doorknob she opened it, soon as a cold wind hit her nose a hand appeared above her and pressed the door closed firmly. His body was behind her as he settled his other hand on the closed door, trapping her with his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Smart girl.” He murmured. “Come back to the table.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Lena grew angry and pushed his arm away. “Get the fuck away from me!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena, Lena.” He tsked, stepping towards her with his hands raised. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get back!” She took the first thing she could find and threw it at him, but he dodged with ease. “What do you want?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For you to calm down.” Will’s voice appeared from behind her and his hands encircled her wrists, holding them against her chest. Lena immediately felt her body relax, dropping down into him as he pulled her back. “Breathe.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want with me?” She pushed against him halfheartedly. “What do you want?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without waiting for his response she slammed her groggy head back and fell forward from his arms as Will groaned. Her head connected with the floor and she felt the stickiness of blood on her forehead. On the floor she crawled, going to reach for something to fight with, but a hand wrapped around her ankle, yanking her back across the rug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena kicked out but was flipped over, her other foot made contact with the professors arm. He grinned and reached down, taking her by the throat. But Lena was not so easily handled, even with the fell swoop of deep trance that washed over her, she yanked at his hands as he squeezed, cutting off her air slightly and pulling her up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her fist rounded and connected to his face, he dropped her and she scurried away, down the hall in the other direction. But Will was quick behind her and had her again trapped in the corner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena…” He warned, getting close to her. “We won’t hurt you, just--” He took her wrists and pulled her in, staring her down. That familiar grogginess set in as he dragged her heaving body to the dining room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After being deposited in the chair, she gripped the sides, feeling her senses come back to her, it was something about his touch that’d set her off finally, made her into a cloud. It’s insistence swallowed her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When did you feel something was wrong?” The Professor asked, wiping the slight blood from his lip with a grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hannibal…” Will said, and Lena looked at him, having not heard the Professor's first name yet. It tweaked something in her memory, something she couldn’t grasp. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m curious.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When I walked in and recognized the carpet.” Lena answered honestly, thinking about the patterns, the way they sparked an odd feeling. Realization dawned over her: “You brought me here the other night.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will smiled and ran his hand through his hair. “You caught that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you don’t remember.” Hannibal asked, circling behind her, his finger touched the small cut on her forehead and she winced, jerking away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena shook her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you don’t remember what transpired just an hour ago?” His hand caressed her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Her voice was rough as he pressed his palm into the back of her head. “No, I don’t.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not going to hurt you, Lena.” He whispered and kissed the top of her head. She was a sculpture under his hand as he trailed his knuckle down the side of her face and jaw before his hand pressed into her throat. Immediately she went limp, her eyes rolled back and any resistance was drained from her as Will took her wrists. “No, we plan to make you into everything you are meant to be. Cherish you. Will…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Open your eyes, Lena.” Will said firmly. She did so, and his face was right before her, his eyes peering deeply into her own. Quickly he pressed his lips into hers, they were warm and eager as he kissed her deeper. Lena closed her eyes, the kiss lighting a fire inside her. No one had ever kissed her with such pure passion, possession-- it stirred something in her and she cursed herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Am I so easy to manipulate? </span>
  </em>
  <span>She wondered distractedly.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he pulled away she followed, the warmth from their hands causing her core to stir. But she was redirected with a flick of Hannibal’s wrist and his mouth covered hers from above. He was more possessive, rougher as he took her bottom lip between his teeth and bit lightly, his hand tightening around her throat. Then Will pressed his face into the side of her jaw, kissing the skin and Hannibal’s taught hand. His hands left her wrists and ran up her side. Lena felt her tension fall away, unable to trust her own body as it relaxed into them without her conscious permission.   </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We will have you, entirely.” Hannibal said, pulling back. Lena was left stunned, stunned by her body's reaction, by their actions, and by the need deep inside her to throw herself head first. They let go of her, leaving her to sit in her sweat and heat. “Now, shall we return to dinner?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They walked back to their places as if the most normal of interactions had just befallen them. Lena took her fork and speared the lamb, not knowing what else to do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A laugh bubbled out of her throat uncontrolled. They looked at her, amused and confused. “Come away little lamb to the slaughter. I get it.” Hannibal laughed and looked at Will who laughed as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad the irony is not lost on you.” Hannibal said, cutting his meat delicately. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena ate the juicy square and hummed. “It’s very good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad, ah! I see you are out of wine.” He stood quickly and went to the banquet to fetch an open bottle of red wine. Lena said nothing as the bloody liquid poured into her glass. “I hope you like it, it’s one of my favorite vintages.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” She took the glass, looking at the still wine within. “Is it drugged?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does it matter?” Hannibal asked honestly, sitting back down at his place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right.” She deflated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sip.” Will urged and she did, it was very smooth and rich, and left her tongue tingling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you going to kill me?” She asked, setting the wine down to eat some more of her meal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will and Hannibal looked at each other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Will said. “We’re not going to kill you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’d prefer to keep you.” Hannibal finished. “Mold you, and show you a new way of life.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you kidnapping me?” She took another sip of the wine, already feeling it’s effects. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not yet.” Will smiled, a wickedness under the surface she hadn’t noticed before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you going to-- make me do things?” She looked between them as Hannibal eyed her curiously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What kind of things are you thinking of?” He asked casually. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena swallowed, feeling suddenly very small in his direct gaze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will frowned, as did Hannibal. “No, Lena. We will wait until you are ready and wanting. Which I don’t think is too far off by the smell of you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena recoiled, yet she could feel the slickness between her legs. “I--I--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He has a very good sense of smell, it got me too at first.” Will clarified, winking at her. “We won’t do anything you won’t enjoy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unless a punishment has to be dealt.” Hannibal said, grinning. Lena drank some more of the wine, wanting at that moment to forget. “We should do something for your little attempt, but you did not yet know the rules, so it will be forgotten.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks.” She said sarcastically. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sip.” Will reminded her and she drank deeply, the dizziness in her limbs adding to her cares. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you feeling, Lena?” Hannibal asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tired.” She answered honestly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sip.” Will repeated and she did, her eyes starting to close. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Drop.” Hannibal’s voice wrapped itself around her mind and the world fell away once more. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lena makes a break for it and gains an ally.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Not beta'd! Nice little chapter to fill out the story. I'll try and update more regularly but the holidays got in the way this time. </p>
<p>Let me know what you think! I'm still getting back into the fic game after sitting out for a few years. </p>
<p>Thanks for reading :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sunlight pierced through her closed eyes as she stirred, only for shock to shoot her upright. With a heavy breath she looked around to find herself in her flat, her dress still on, her underwear still intact. The clock read almost 2pm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A dream.” She whispered, rubbing her eyes, only for her wrists to come into view. Finger marks pressed into the pale skin and she rushed out of bed, the mirror reflecting what she already suspected. Hands in blacks and blues littered her neck and collar bones. “Fuck.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Going to her window, she half expected Will to be standing below it like some fucked up Romeo. But the street was empty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gotta think, gotta think, where have I heard that name before?” She went to her laptop and opened a new tab. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hannibal USA crime. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She typed, and there he was, the first face to stare back at her with a demonizing mask, but they were his eyes. The article was dated two year before in Virginia. She scrolled down, skimming the words, afraid one of them would walk in at any moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Will Graham who was framed by the Riper, also vanished that night over the side of the cliff. They have been declared dead since no bodies were ever found. But I doubt it, these two Murderers are out there somewhere beautiful, sipping on summery cocktails, and snacking on the bellhop. Will Graham lost the moment he empathized with Dr. Lecter, and was damned from the moment he killed for him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The byline was a woman named Freddie Lounds, and she obviously had an opinion on Will before he was messed up with Hannibal. The next article was from an interview with a woman named Dr. Alana Bloom, and it detailed Will’s descent into madness. She’d been a colleague of Hannibal and a friend to Will, it was also noted that she often worked with the FBI. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Alana Bloom, physiatrist </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lena googled, and her practice popped up. She clicked through until she found a phone number. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quickly as she could she dialed using her google phone app  and a number blocker. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What are you doing? They’ll know. They most likely have your phone tapped. </span>
  </em>
  <span>A voice in her head jolted her back, but she pushed past it, responding: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck you, I have to try something! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dr. Blooms office, how may I help you?” A perky southern voice asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, I need to speak to Dr. Bloom. Is she there?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Young lady, it’s Saturday, she’s not in the office. You’ll have to call back on Monday.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, can you patch me through to her personal line? This is urgent.” Lena almost begged. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman on the other line hummed. “I’m really not supposed to--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell her it concerns Will Graham.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One moment.” The holding music started playing, a sweet Clair De Lune. Quicker than she thought the line picked back up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello, This is Alana Bloom. Marie said this has something to do with Will Graham?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dr. Bloom. Hi. I need your help.” Lena said frantically. “He’s here Will and-- the other one.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are you?” Alana began talking quickly, trying to cover the receiver, she said. “Get Jack on the phone.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t say. I’m afraid of what they’ll do.” Lena felt tears well in her eyes. The voice in her head warned her, </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t you dare tell her.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are they trying to hurt you?” Alana asked. “What’s your name?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Lie. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Lee, call me Lee.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lee, wherever you are I need you to do this, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go to the closest train or bus station, get on the first one leaving, when you get to the next station get off and get on the next one leaving. When you’re in a safe location, I need you to call me. Here’s my personal number, write it down.” Lena listened as she read off the numbers twice. “No airports, they’re too easy to trace and he has more resources than even we can trace. Are they watching you now?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She glanced around, as if he’d appear from the very fabric of the curtains. “I don’t know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there a back way to leave?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Lena said, already packing a small duffle. “Yes, I can get to the station.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The UK.” Another voice said in the background, only for Alana to quickly cover it with: “Good, go, be smart. Call me and I’ll make sure you’re safe.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to go.” Lena hung up the phone and immediately deleted the history of the call. She went to her laptop and deleted her search history. Quickly changing into new brown tights, a wool skirt and flannel shirt, she pulled her favorite cardigan over, masking the shape of her body as much as she could. Overtop she pulled a hoodie and then an old winter coat, as her shearling one would be too noticeable. She pulled a beanie over her hair and wrapped a scarf tight to cover the bruises.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as she dropped the phone on her bed she was out of the room, not looking back to see if they followed her. She’d enough cash to last a few days, and her feet couldn’t move quick enough. The backdoor of the flat swung open and she followed the alley before coming out near a main road. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Taxi!” She hailed and a black cab stopped, she climbed in and took a breath. No one had grabbed her yet or yelled after her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Idiot! You think you can run? </span>
  </em>
  <span>The voice taunted. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shut up, shut up, shut up! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will watched the window, it’d been a moment since he’d caught sight of movement, but she may have just gone back to sleep. He’d wanted to just take her directly to the estate, but Hannibal insisted on playing this game, just to </span>
  <em>
    <span>see what she’ll do. </span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He quickly called Hannibal. “Yes?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think she ran.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll check, get the car.” He hung up and Will turned off the street corner to where they’d parked the car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal walked into the flat, her bedroom door was askew and he looked in, a phone sat on the bed, her dress discarded on the floor. The phone was easy to unlock and he found that all her calls and texts had been deleted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Smart girl.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aimlessly, he opened her drawers, taking out some clothing and packing it in the small leather suitcase he’d brought. Looking around the cosy space he picked a few well read books and found a journal. The covering was leather and worn, well loved. He unbuttoned the sleeve and glanced inside at her urgent handwriting, filled with rambles and poetry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tucking the journal away in his bag, he left the way he came-- the door open. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena walked into the train station, quickly weaving through the crowd, the hair on the back of her neck stood tall, waiting for any semblance that she was being followed. But she couldn’t feel anything, she was just moving, faster and faster. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Get to the train, then you can panic.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Finally she came to the platform, the next train leaving was for Manchester, and she waited patiently-- yet shakily-- for it to zoom down. Before she could go into a full panic attack, the train arrived. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the doors opened, she looked behind her, instinct needing to check if the coast was clear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There he was, a platform away. He’d never make it in time without creating a scene. Lena felt caught by his eyes as he stood, watching her, a small smile on his face. He raised his hand in a brief wave. She shivered and wondered if he’d let her run, only so they could chase. A part of her thought to scream but the voice quieted it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you think he hasn’t thought of that? He most likely paid off the cops like the other night.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He moved slightly and she spurned to action, climbing on the train, watching as the doors shut and he rounded the corner. From outside the window he approached, watching her with just the glass between them. An odd part of her wanted to reach up and touch the separation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then the train moved. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Away from his icy gaze, Lena wandered down the cars, looking for an empty seat where she could take a few deep breaths, and soon she found the second to last car, almost completely bare. She sat against the window, leaning her head on the thick glass as the city disappeared around them. Hannibal’s face haunted her, with Will standing nearby, like a promise of things to come. They were two sides of a collapsing room and all she could do was curl up on the floor and wait to be crushed. Would she be caught? Become as docile in her captivity as he? Or worse, become as darkened and sour as Hannibal wanted, an accomplice as well as a pet? Was that her fate?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Does it scare you that much? </span>
  </em>
  <span>The voice asked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They’ll take care of you. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shut up! You’re wrong, you’re so wrong. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She fought herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Needing a distraction, she opened her book and read. The main hero, a young handsome knight, suddenly seemed less and less attractive, he was possessive and quick to anger. Lena snapped it shut. Hannibal knew where she was going, but there was no way he could get there before her in a car and they’d have to drive. Something in her gut told her that somehow he’d manage. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He always has his ways. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ticket agent came through and she purchased her ticket, pulling her hood over her head as she stared out the window. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After an hour, she was restless, and stood. A payphone on the train caught her eye and she took out the piece of ripped paper with Alana Bloom’s number. Fishing out some coins she pushed them in the machine and dialed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lee?” Alana answered after one ring. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, hello, Dr. Bloom.” Lena leaned against the train wall for balance, her head spinning. Her stomach ached and her throat felt dryer than the desert. “I’m on the train-- but--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it?” She asked, Lena could almost sense the bustle around her. “Lee?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fighting the rising bile in her throat she said: “Lena. My name is Lena.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena, okay, what’s happening?” Alana’s voice was full of concern, causing a bubble of sadness to push up Lena’s throat. “Lena, you’re okay right now. You can talk to me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He saw me at the station, like it’s a game. He knows where I’m headed. I’m-- I’m going to lose.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as the realization hit her. It didn’t matter what she did, where she ran. </span>
  <em>
    <span>See? I was right. Stupid girl. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The voice mocked, causing a new bout of sobs to bubble in her throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena, you are not going to lose. They won’t win.” Alana urged through the phone. “I’ll have the police meet you at the station, what station--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I-- it won’t matter.” Lena swallowed the defeat, letting it settle in her stomach. “I’m sorry I dragged this all up.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena, listen to me.” Alana’s voice deepened. “They can’t control you, they’re not magical, they’re two very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> sick men. You have your power and you don’t have to lose. I will help you. You’re not weak.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll try.” Lena wiped her tears away. “I’ll call when I get to the next station after switching trains. But Dr. Bloom--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I don’t call, tell my mom I love her.” Lena hung up, not wanting to hear more of Alana’s even arguments that filled her with a sense of reality. She didn't need reality. Reality couldn't help her. That voice deep inside her head told her again and again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>it doesn’t matter what you do, where you run, you are ours. Ours. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alana looked up at Jack in the office. “Any trace?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was a train payphone, somewhere in Northern England.” Jack said, looking at his desktop. “But we couldn’t get an exact location.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dammit.” Alana braced herself on the side of Jack’s desk. “Her name is Lena, she’s American. Studying in the UK. Not much to go on.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone will report her missing when she doesn’t show up to class on Monday.” Jack offered, rubbing his forehead. “I guess wanting them to be dead and them being dead are two very different things. How far Will’s fallen.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or how well Hannibal’s manipulated him.” Alana snorted. “I won’t let him do it to another--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Another, what, Alana? Innocent?” Jack asked, looking at her intently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will wasn’t an innocent.” She shook her head, sitting down across from him. “Just another soul who didn’t deserve it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think he’s already manipulated this young woman? Framing her for murder?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, he’s already got into her head that he’s some kind of God. It was like she couldn’t comprehend that he wasn’t going to win. And we know Hannibal has history with mental manipulations like hypnosis and conditioning.” Alana frowned. “She can’t be older than mid twenties from the sound of her. I’m going to wring his neck myself.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is personal for all of us.” Jack sighed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I couldn’t do anything for Abigail, or for Will, he won’t win this time, Jack. I won’t let him.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lena gets to train station number 1</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a short little chapter to hold you over till the fun starts!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lena watched as the grey day remained grey and the train pulled up Manchester’s station. Gathering her things she quickly got off, not looking around at the others in the empty concrete blocks left open to the elements. It was around 5:00pm, and she felt her stomach growl, having not eaten much the day before-- or perhaps it was an after effect of the drugs. Annoyingly enough, stopping for a sandwich was too risky so she looked for the next train leaving. 3 minutes towards Newcastle. Hightailing it towards the platform she watched from just a few steps away as the doors closed, leaving her standing there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck.” She said under her breath. Turning on her heel she looked for the next train, needing to squeeze between a throng of businessmen. 10 minutes towards Edinburgh. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ow. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Someone ran into her arm and muttered an apology as he kept on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena made her way to the end of the platform to wait for the train. The air was cold, clouding her breath, and she blew on her hands to warm up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she looked towards the tracks she felt someone come to stand next to her. Her feet stayed planted though her shoulders flinched. Without even having to turn-- she could smell his cologne-- and knew it was over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m impressed at your gumption, Lena.” He said easily. “If you’d caught that last train, we might not have been reunited.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A pity.” She snarked, glancing to the side at him in his wool coat and red scarf. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes! </span>
  </em>
  <span>The voice in her head cheered, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shut up, shut up! </span>
  </em>
  <span>She argued back, tears brimming in her eyes as she looked for an escape. “I’ll make a scene.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you won’t.” He grinned, she truly thought of him as the devil incarnate. All her blood ran cold with forgotten fear. “You’re curious as to what will happen.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena felt her hands shake and she huffed a pained laugh. “Curious.” She shook her head. “I’d rather not know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t lie to me, Lena. Never lie.” His voice turned stern. “Will is on his way in the car, I was able to catch the train right behind you, we’ll wait for him at the cafe.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if I refuse?” Lena tested. “I’m not afraid to--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yes. I’ve noticed. But you won’t, because you’re already feeling quite tired, aren’t you?” He eyed her and Lena felt her balance shift, her right knee buckling slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fear boiled inside her, she’d not so much as had a sip of water since that morning. “How--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I injected you almost five minutes ago, not too much, just to keep things smooth.” He reached down and took her duffle. “Take my arm, Lena. I won’t let you fall.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her head swam, and she realized that he was right, she'd had no choice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she’d be damned if she went that easily. Ignoring her duffle, she tried to turn on her heel and walk the other way. Maybe even throw herself into the tracks. Each step felt like it took a thousand years, but he hadn’t grabbed her-- she had a chance. Looking across the way she saw a woman reading and waiting for the train, if she could just open her mouth and scream-- cry out-- she would hear. She would help. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal just walked in step with her, watching her intently as she struggled, everything slowing down in her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take my arm, Lena. I won’t let you throw yourself to the tracks.” He said low enough that she heard the rumble in his chest, keeping his face neutral. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if I…” She couldn’t finish, the words stopping up in the back of her throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t allow a waste like that, my dear.” He nudged her shoulder in insistence. “Come now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her hand wrapped around his upper arm as she linked her’s in his, leaning on him as they walked slowly. It felt nice to be cared for but she pushed those thoughts away, knowing they were from the mindfucking and not real. She told herself they were not real. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Relax, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the voice inside her cooed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to hurt me?” She’d already asked him, but she felt the question come up again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Lena.” He whispered, looking down at her with a satisfaction that made her falter. “But it seems we’ve much to do before you can enjoy the life we lead. In time, I think you’ll be quite happy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Will happy?” She asked sardonically-- though it came off more pitiful with her slow tongue-- thinking of the articles, the pictures, his life before </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’ve read about us. Smart girl.” He smiled, leaning closer to her. “Will is more himself when he is with me, as I am more myself with him. We fulfill the other in ways most people never understand. He brings forth my humanity, and I bring forth his inner self. We shall only see what we’ll bring forth in you, and you in us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t wait.” Lena slurred with sarcasm, resting her head on his arm, the drug doing it’s mean work in her blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, sit.” He unwound her arm from his elbow with a pat and sat her down in the corner of the empty cafe. “I’ll get you a coffee.” </span>
</p><p><span>Lena waited, woozy and unfocused. She’d lost of course, as she predicted. But in that cafe she could call out for help from the barista or flip the table over, anything to make a scene. But Hannibal was the only other one there, and he could kill the young woman behind the counter with a flick of his hand. </span><em><span>Plus, you want to be good. </span></em><span>She shook her head to get rid of the thought.</span> <span>Before she could form anything more coherent,  he returned with an espresso for him and a cappuccino for her, as well as two biscotti. </span></p><p>
  <span>“You must be hungry.” He pushed them towards her and she dipped them in her coffee, humming at how good they were as the bread dissolved oddly on her tongue oddly-- must be the drugs. “What was the plan, then? Get on another train and then another?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena laughed quietly. “Yes. Avoidance at it’s best.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached over and broke off a corner of a biscotti. “Then what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A part of her warned to lie-- “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’d doubted I’d even get out of Glasgow.” Lena answered honestly, as to not disobey completely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal nodded, sipping his espresso. “I was surprised you did.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least I keep you on your toes.” Lena scolded herself as soon as the words left her mouth, she was flirting with him and he was with her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t flirt with the murderer kidnapper man. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you did do that.” He took a piece of the biscotti and ate it. “Will was quite disappointed that you ran so quickly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But was he surprised?” She asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, in fact I think he too appreciates your gumption.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone buzzed and she saw the text. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Here.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Drink up.” He pointed at her coffee and she did, finishing what was left. “Will’s outside.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena let him help her up by the hand and walked with him, head spacey, out into the cold air. A sleek grey Mercedes awaited them. Hannibal opened the back door for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s over, isn’t it?” She asked, more herself and him. There wasn’t a sadness in her voice, just acceptance, like there was no other way it </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>have ended. Quickly his hand was on her collar and his thumb brushed her neck under her scarf. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Now, please, get in the car.” He pushed slightly and she obeyed, sliding into the warm leather. He shut the door and opened the trunk to put her bag. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will turned around from the driver's seat. “Hello, Lena.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will.” She eyed him, attempting to suss out if there was a part of him left from before, an ally somewhere in his warm smile. He reached back and squeezed her knee. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Evidently, not. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m excited to show you the house.” He said turning back and Hannibal climbed in the back seat next to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, the house. You’ll like it, I think.” Hannibal commented as Will put the car in drive. “But till then, why don’t you get some sleep.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena felt her eyes droop, heavy lidded. His arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest, his hand brushing her hair back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sleep, Lena…” He said again, and her mind ebbed, running away into the folds of his coat as she fell into a deep sleep. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They get to the house in the middle of the woods. Can Lena keep her head straight?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The car pattered to a stop and Lena stirred, Hannibal’s thumb traced circles on her arm. “Get up, Lena. We’re here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was dark outside, but the sky was full of the moon and stars. He opened the door and helped her out, the drug having worn off during her nap. She thought of Alana Bloom, and how she’d never call her, leaving her wondering what ever happened to the girl on the phone. With her head clear she had no doubt they’d kill her, and if what the internet said was true, eat her after. The thought made her want to throw up. But then another voice interrupted, soothing her, telling her to not be afraid. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The fuck is wrong with you? Get it together! </span>
  </em>
  <span>She yelled internally as he held her up.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were surrounded by forest. Each direction was just white frosted trees, looking menacing and inviting all the same. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe freezing to death would be better than getting eaten, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she mused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The house was massive. An old hunting lodge no doubt, once belonging to a baron or earl, it’s dark grey stone imposing against the fields behind it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is your house?” She asked, half impressed, half judging. The only time she’d been in a house so nice was during her short lived catering job in undergrad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will laughed coming around the car, Hannibal let her go as Will slung his arm around her neck. “Wait till you see inside.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked together to the front door and Hannibal opened it, setting her duffle next to the coat rack. The foyer was huge, with a chandelier of antlers hanging above and rich rugs below. A massive staircase twisted up the one side, made of dark mahogany. Lena let her mouth fall open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will, could you show her to her room, please?” Hannibal asked, hanging up his coat before taking Will’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Course.” Will said, helping her out of her own coat, as his hand went for her scarf she stopped him, remembering the marks on her neck. “It’s alright, we want to see.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena knew she’d not win the fight, so she let him unwind her plaid scarf to reveal the bruises underneath. They both looked at her neck as she hugged her stomach, unable to meet their eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, I’ll show you upstairs so you can get cleaned up.” Will guided her with a hand on her back. Hannibal smiled before kissing Will on the cheek as he passed. She let him lead her upstairs and into the large room they’d evidently put together for her. The bed was canopied, and the room smelled of pine and lavender. It was lovely, which made her stomach hurt even more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” She said as he walked over to turn the lights on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The bathroom is in there if you’d like to shower, and the closet is connected to the bathroom. Hannibal had some things brought in for you. I picked out something for dinner tonight.” He smiled, proud of himself. “If you need anything we’ll be in the lounge downstairs.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” She walked to the window and began to shake, the panic coming back to her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, fuck, fuck..</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Will--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” He asked, coming up behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders but she flinched away. He waited for a moment before returning them with a gentle grip, present. “Lena?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m scared.” She whispered as new tears fell down her cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned her around and pulled her into an embrace, resting his chin atop her head, his hands rubbing circles on her back. “I know how you feel.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do?” She asked, muffled by his sweater as sobs wracked her. A part of her didn’t want to seek comfort from them, but her body was almost used to it, and she needed it. She could damn herself that way for just a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I was so scared when I started to realize how-- how Hannibal felt about me.” He sighed, the sound full of memory, pain, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>regret?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “But this life, this world he pulled me into, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s more than just life and luxury.” He laughed, pulling back and taking her face in his hands. “He teaches you that you don’t need to be ashamed of what you want, what you desire-- the macabre side of beauty. Whatever your head designs, you can revel in. No instinct is too ugly, no need deemed sinful. It’s true freedom, all aspects of yourself will be laid bare but you’ll feel more whole.” Will’s eyes stared intently as he pressed his lips together. He leaned down and kissed the skin below her eyes, as if tasting her tears, then he kissed her mouth gently, with a softness she’d never before experienced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will…” She whispered, backing away. “I’m sorry-- I--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand.” He smiled. “It will take time. I’ll leave you be.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” She meant it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he’d gone she wandered into the bathroom. In the large room sat a clawfoot tub over white mosaics woven with light blue. Closing the door, she slipped off her skirt and top, turning on the rain shower in the corner. Inside were shampoos and body scrubs, all expensive brands. Lena looked behind herself, feeling watched like a caged animal, and slipped off her bra, tights, and underwear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hot water hit her back with such ease she sighed, letting it soak into her skin. She scrubbed her limbs until they turned red, running the nice shampoo through her hair. After she felt clean to the bone she stepped out and dried herself off with the softest towel she’d ever felt. Walking into the closet she saw the outfit they wanted her to put on like a doll,  laid on a tufted ottoman, a dark green velvet that rushed and wrapped in folds of expensive fabric. She touched the filled closet of clothing, all oddly her ideal style sense, but nicer than she could ever afford. Opening a drawer she snorted, the matching sets of bras and underwear, just like a man would expect. She noted they hadn’t brought her duffle up, and sighing loudly she picked the plainest pair, a yellow high waisted brief and unpadded bra. The dress was like a glove, stretching around her curves. She adjusted it down and went to the vanity to dry her hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Might as well play along, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought bitterly. It was easier to keep her head clear when they weren’t in front of her. But it was like her mind went to shit each time they caught her eye. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bastards, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she kept thinking, afraid to say it allowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After her head was dried she shook it out and applied a small amount of make-up, knowing what they wanted, a painted doll, a playact. If she could play along until a moment of opportunity, she could get out and get to a phone to call Alana Bloom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She drew a stain on her lips to make them red and looked at herself in the mirror, she somehow looked like a 30s movie star. Besides the dark marks still around her throat, that is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But they’d not left her shoes, and she huffed, walking out of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena.” Hannibal stood in the foyer, looking up at her. “You look lovely.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” She said as she walked down the stairs. “You’ve spoiled me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet.” He took her hand and with his other brushed her hair behind her ear. “Were the earrings not to your liking?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena remembered the pearls set on the vanity and shook her head. “My ears aren’t pierced.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, something to be fixed at a later date. Come, Will awaits in the den.” He led her around the corner and down a hall where Will stood at the piano forte, sipping a glass of wine. The room was full of bookshelves, art, and music brushed into the foundation, kissing the senses. Will wore his button up slightly open, his hair was slightly damp as it curled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow.” He said, smiling wide. “You clean up nice.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not so bad yourself.” She answered plainly, unable to help the smile that turned up her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dinner will be ready in about 30 minutes.” Hannibal announced. “Lena, red or white?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was surprised at the choice. “White, please.” But Hannibal just nodded and opened a chilled bottle, pouring her a glass. It was sharp and sweet as it touched her tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll leave you two as I tend to dinner.” He bowed out, walking to the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena strolled over the soft carpet and stood next to him, looking out at the snow brushed field. “So, is this what it is? We dress up in big houses, eat dinners he makes, and drink wine?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some of it. We travel a lot, Hannibal has a liking for the finer things in life and always knows how to get them.” Will clinked his glass against hers. “Among other things.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What like sex?” She asked bluntly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will chuckled. “Yes, there is sex. He’s-- well you’ll see.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena stared at him and he glanced at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I meant--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I know what you meant.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena, I meant, it’s good.” He laughed, redness filling his cheeks. “I don’t want to spoil anything.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d be okay if nothing was spoiled for a while.” She said honestly, to which Will ran his hand down her back. “I’ve--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” He asked breathily, and she turned to look at him. His eyes were full of curiosity, flicking over her, and for a moment she felt powerful, being the one he couldn’t suss out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never…” She couldn’t finish the sentence, biting her lip and looking towards the snow again. Wishing she could bury herself in it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will whistled through his teeth. “That, I didn't see coming.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, tell me about it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned his head down towards her, pressing his forehead into hers. “Then I guess we’ll have to make it special.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena swallowed the small smile that urged it’s way out, but he caught it and leaned back. “What’s for dinner?” She stared at the golden wine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not drugged this time if you’re wondering.” He said slyly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha, ha.” Lena signed. “Does it matter if it was?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He eyed her curiously at the comment. “It’s a pasta of some sort, I tend to not ask what Hannibal serves, it always tastes good.” Will shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena remembered suddenly the accusations in the article and her brow furrowed, she sipped again pushing the thought away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Does it really matter? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what you’re wondering…” Will sang. “Hannibal mentioned that you might have googled us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might have.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, it’s beef, tonight.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tonight.” She let out a weak laugh. “Comforting.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure we’ll talk about it at some point, but I do think you should hear it from him.” Will left the window, walking over the pianoforte. “Are you musical?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not with instruments, I--” Lena stopped herself, already imagining them asking her to do it for their entertainment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You what? Sing?” Will deduced. “I’d like to hear that sometime.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you play?” She touched the keys. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hannibal’s been trying to teach me, but I’m not very good.” He sat down, playing a note. “Do you know this one?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He began to play a small diddy, and she warmed, recognizing it right away. A part of her wanted to laugh at how stereotypical it was, </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Water is Wide. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“The water is wide…” She started and he smiled at her, they went slowly, waving through the melody. She felt herself relax with the familiar tune, the resonance in her chest soothing her quiet panic until she almost forgot where she was. Almost. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the song swelled to it’s finish, a clap sounded from the doorway. There Hannibal stood in his apron. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve a resonant voice, Lena. Like mulled wine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” She said, half serious as her body warmed. His approval washed over her, and she consciously realized how deep the conditioning went. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dinner is ready.” He untied his apron and disappeared into the kitchen. Will led her into the dining room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal brought in the tray of food, setting it before them. Lena was not seated at the other head as before, but next to him with Will across from her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spaghetti alla colatura.” Hannibal announced as he filled her plate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smells great.” Lena offered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A toast, to the future.” He raised his glass and Will followed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena raised hers as well. “Cheers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ate with intelligent conversation to fill the gaps, Hannibal asking about her art preferences and letting her rant about the Liturgical paintings and the Opera she’d seen in New York earlier that year, </span>
  <em>
    <span>La Boheme</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Will chimed in with some musical history, then went into a theological discussion on a manuscript he’d recently studied on dogs and other pets. They laughed. Lena almost forgot the circumstance of her sitting at that table once again that night, even with Hannibal’s soft touch to her hand when she said something clever, the wine glaze that went over their eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After their plates were clean they strolled back into the den, and Lena realized they’d let their guards down somewhat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s the downstairs bathroom?” She asked and they both eyed her. “Don’t worry, there’s nowhere to run.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Through the kitchen and around the corner.” Hannibal smiled, passing by her to sit on the couch. Lena nodded, setting her wine down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She walked into the kitchen, the backdoor was there. Out of pure curiosity she twisted the knob and it opened. A trick, no doubt. Looking over her shoulder, she heard Will laugh in the living room and an idea came to her. She grabbed a scarff, wrapping it around her shoulders and opened the door loudly, scurrying back into the hallway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as planned Hannibal came into the room, looking at the ajar door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Will asked, rushing in behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our lamb has pranced away again. This time into the chilly night.” Hannibal said calmly. “Will, can you get the flashlight from that drawer?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A part of me thinks we might have to invest in a leash.” Will growled, getting the flashlight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal chuckled. “Or a cage. She can’t have gotten far. Poor thing doesn’t even know what her reckoning will be.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both walked outside and Lena went around the bend to what looked like a mud room. But she couldn’t find car keys. However, she found hiking boots, and slipped them over her bare feet. She pushed through the garage, admiring the convertible for a moment before looking through the outside door. No light shone, so she opened it and walked into the crunching snow. They must have started searching the back of the house, but she ran across the snow to the car, waited, and once she didn’t hear any shouts, she took to the woods. Unfortunately, her tracks were obvious. Panicking she looked around and got an idea. She took a branch and brushed them away but hurried into the tree line. She just had to find a road, and then stop a car or truck and get their phone. </span>
  <em>
    <span>One step at a time, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she reminded herself only to be interrupted by that voice in her head, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what are you doing?!! Bad!! Bad!!!! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lena hit her temple, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shut up you crazy bitch! I’m getting out of her. No way I’m on the menu next. Spaghetti a la Lena is not fucking happening!! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The trees weren’t very tight, and she wove through them easily, even if her body shivered in the intense cold. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Get away, just get away. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Her head throbbed again as the other voice-- eerily calm-- said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>good girls don’t run. What will you do without them? </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But Lena shook her head and carried on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will, she’s not back here.” Hannibal called, looking down at the untouched snow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will ran back. “Where in the devil is she?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wonder.” He turned back to the house and went inside, following the hall back. “Your hiking boots are gone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dammit.” Will growled, passing him and going into the garage. “Hannibal.” He called. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The outside door to the garage swung open in the wind, and her tracks were clear out of them. “Come on, she can’t have gotten far.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked around to the car and followed her tracks until they seemed brushed away. “She wanted it to look like she vanished.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A pine branch, smart girl.” Hannibal smiled again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanted her to try again.” Will said, following him into the woods. “You wanted to see if she would.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I was curious.” Hannibal took his hand, kissing the back of it. “Weren’t you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are the wicked that this way comes.” He answered, smirking. “And wickeder she will make us if she keeps this up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked deeper into the trees, Hannibal smelled the air, trying to see if he could smell the peach tree body wash he’d picked specifically for such a reason. Soon he caught the scent and they turned North, she was zig zagging. He smiled again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lena heard his foot snap over a twig, and she dove around a bend only to find herself on a ledge. Down over thirty feet was a creek, and she swore inwardly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena…” Hannibal’s voice rang out and she covered her mouth, the need to call out for help pulling up within her when he said her name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s near.” Will whispered, only a few feet from her. She pressed her back into the wall and moved further out onto the thinner edge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait.” Hannibal said as he moved across the snow and peaked around the outcrop's edge. “Lena.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll jump.” She warned, not looking at him. “I’ll do it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you won’t.” Hannibal ordered. “Come off the ledge, right this instant.” There was no room in his voice for disobedience. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena, take my hand.” Will said, his arm braced by Hannibal as he leaned around the bend. “Lena, now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-- You’re going to hurt me.” She stuttered, the fear sinking in as her foot got closer to the edge. “Ah!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena, take my hand right now.” Will ordered and she did, too afraid to resist, as if her arm moved of its own accord. He pulled her to his chest and Hannibal pulled them into safety. The icy air shook her as she shivered half from fear and half from the cold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you hurt?” Hannibal took her face, looking at her as her lip trembled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All she could do was shake her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” He murmured, staring at her with an odd look in his eye, as if he were deciding how to carve a chicken open. Lena closed her eyes, hoping they would at least make it quick. But he didn’t snap her neck like she expected. Instead he leaned down and kissed her forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without another word he scooped her up in his arms and they walked towards the house, Lena bit her lips to stop them from shaking as they neared the mansion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hannibal--” Will started, but one sideways look stopped his words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena sniffled, shivering hard, and she knew she’d lost. She’d always lose and there was nothing she could do about it. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the smut will commence next chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>the smuuuut has arriveddddd </p>
<p>thats it thats the chapter. </p>
<p>Also, I need to work on this I KNOW so I'll try and have a new chapter written soon. the smut most likely will not stop but we also know I'm addicted to plot for no reason.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Once inside, Hannibal deposited her on the couch and slipped off his wet shoes, putting them by the fire. Will followed suit and then took the boots off Lena’s frozen feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena, you’ve run away twice now. We were going to let the train fiasco slide, but this…” He tsked, sliding off his suit jacket. “A punishment must be dealt.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena sat up, placing her feet firmly on the floor. “What are my options?” She asked, matching his gaze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal couldn’t help but smile, he walked up to her and knelt down on his heels, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I could add to your necklace…” He offered, trailing the bruises with his finger and making her sway. “Or the paddle.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The paddle?” Will asked, amused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, Lena?” Hannibal’s warm hand pressed into the base of her throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The paddle.” She said quickly and he smiled as if proud, standing up. Her neck was already so sore, she didn’t know if she could take more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will, fetch it, please.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will went to the closet across the room and retrieved a leather covered paddle with a wooden handle. He walked it back and handed it to Hannibal, only for Hannibal to cup his cheek and kiss him deeply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” He said as he released Will, who smiled as if in a daze. “On your knees, Lena.” He gestured to the floor below him. She slid off the couch and onto her knees-- too tired to fight anymore. “Hands out in front of you.” He pushed her shoulder slightly, guiding her onto all fours. “Good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will went on a knee next to her and pulled up the hem of her dress over her backside so it bunched around her waist. “Just breathe.” He said as he hooked the sides of her underwear and pulled them down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena felt extremely exposed, more so than if they’d stripped her bare right there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you ready?” Hannibal asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena hummed yes. Within a second the paddle hit her backside and she bit in a yelp. Then another, harder hit and she couldn’t bite it in. His hand brushed feather light over her heated skin and she flinched only for relaxation to creep in from the soothing touch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he kept on, and she yelled as the pain flashed back-- sharper than ever-- tears hot on her face as the blaze filled her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She screamed hoarsely as a particular hard hit shook her and she bit her hand to stop from screaming more as her arms gave out. The rug pressed into her forehead as it collided with her again and she stared to the side, her eyes welling into oblivion as he struck one more time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She again flinched hard as his hand brushed her bottom, slowly pulling her underwear back up. “Lena, it’s done.” He said calmly, and Will took her shoulders, pulling her up and to his lap on the couch. She squirmed as the fresh beating brushed against his lap, stinging and reminding her of the pain. She never wanted to feel that again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not so bad, was it?” He brushed her tears away, kissing her face again. “Do you want to feel better?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena cried softly and nodded, not knowing what he meant but not caring. She felt so small and broken, she didn’t want to feel that way anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hannibal? Can we tonight?” Will asked over her. Hannibal came up behind them and brushed her hair back trailing his finger down her neck, sending shivers over her battered lower half. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena, are you ready to give yourself to us?” He asked in her ear. Will hugged her waist, nuzzling into her collarbone. “Lena, we will make sure you are looked after. Cherish every moment. All you have to do is give into it. Can you do that? Fall into the abyss of our creation?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-- yes.” She whispered as Will pushed her dress up again and gripped the flesh of her stomach, biting down on her collarbone. “Oh!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, very good. But not here.” Hannibal stood and pulled Lena away from Will, leading her out of the den on wobbling legs. Will was close behind as he brought her upstairs, in the opposite direction of her room was a large master suite. “Sit on the bed.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena did as told and winced as she sat down. Hannibal smiled at her and went to the wall, he pushed back a curtain to reveal a hook high up and two others near the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take off your dress.” He told her, unbuttoning his shirt and Will followed, doing the same. When she didn’t move he blinked, but remained impassive. “Now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena stood up and pulled the dress over her head, setting it on the bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come here.” He went to a drawer and pulled three silken ropes out. “Now you’re going to be bound, as you are bound to us, and by the end of this night so shall your body be. But silk is gentle, it caresses, it’s tender.” He slid the rope over Lena’s shoulder so she could feel the texture, like rain it pattered over her sensitive skin, all her senses on high alert. He hummed, taking her arms from her sides as Will sat on the bed, discarding his shirt. Hannibal pulled her wrists above her head and tied the rope around them, setting off the trigger of his touch. “You'll be trapped, everything you feel will be dictated by me, by Will. This will be the best of pleasures and the strongest of joys.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He abruptly pushed her back, hooking her tied hands to the hook above her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will has also informed me that you have yet to know a man, intimately.” He said as he knelt down, tying her ankles to the other hooks, leaving her legs spread. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” She breathed unsure of the heat forming in her lower belly. She pulled on the restraints for a moment as if to test this was real and not in her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is good, you see. Your understanding of such things will be gifted from us, into you, and all contained among our discretion.” He brushed her cheek as Will came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Hannibal’s waist. “I want you to close your eyes. Will?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She obeyed and heard Will walk away and open another drawer. Before she could think to ask, fabric was being wrapped around her eyes, cutting off any chance of sight. Lena gasped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There.” Hannibal breathed, leaning in to kiss her jaw. “Now, if you make any noise that is not permitted, I will gag you. Understood?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” She trembled as his hand ran down her from collarbone to hip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will’s hands, thinner and fingers longer, pulled her head to the side as he kissed her, pressing the base of her head into the wall as Hannibal continued his exploration. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will, what is it you’d like? Shall we play at the edge or roll her in the waves of our great sea?” Hannibal asked, sounding like he was kneeling before her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He discounted from her lips and chuckled. “Since this is a celebration, I think we should show her everything she can have.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good choice.” Hannibal agreed as his finger ran up her covered slit and Lena bucked. “You only have one more rule tonight, Lena. You do not cum unless told or given permission.” He ran his finger up again and Lena gasped. “What did I say about noise?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will nibbled on her neck in retaliation as his hand traced around her left breast. Hannibal kept at his ministrations, slowly running his finger up and down and up and down. Will kissed down her neck to her chest finally dragging his lips over her breast, his hands digging into her hips. Hannibal stepped behind him, his arm woven around Will to keep at his rhythm on her heating center. When his tongue came into contact with her nipple she keened forwards, her mouth opening, barely able to remain quiet. A small whimper escaped through her effort and Hannibal leaned over the hunched Will, his mouth covering hers in a heavy kiss before he bit down hard on her lip. Eliciting a sharp squeal of pain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said, no sound.” He murmured into her, his hand wrapping around her throat, his other stopped on her cunt and came to her other breast as Will kissed further down. Hannibal was rougher, taking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinching it with vervor and she almost whimpered, her body jolting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon she felt Will pass the apex of her thighs, and kiss the inner skin, just below her wetness. A chill spread through her as her underwear was pushed aside. His tongue washed over her in a long line, the tip teasing her swollen nub, and she bucked, but they held firm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Patience.” Hannibal said in her ear as he bit down on it, kissing down her cheek, his mouth closed over her neck and he bit down hard. Lena cried out, it almost broke her skin. “Breath in and let it fill you. Pain, pleasure, they exist in an orbit. And if you make a sound one more time, I’ll show you what that truly means.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will’s tongue was solely on her clit, circling it and sucking on it, the pleasure building and building. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you close?” Hannibal asked as he tweaked her nipple again, massaging her breast. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena nodded, her body starting to jolt with each small wave. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will.” He pulled back and Will did as well, leaving Lena heaving. Her nipples were red, her cunt dripping, her lip bleeding slightly. “Good work.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Will wiped his mouth, licking his lips. “What do you propose next?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Next I would like to savor that mouth.” Hannibal said, wrapping a hand around his throat as well. “But first I think we should let Lena know what she’ll have to do before we give her what she wants.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll get it.” Will went to the drawer and took out a vibrator, something akin to a Magic Wand, but it was silver and menacing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now, Lena, listen to me.” Hannibal cupped her face. “You will have to earn our taking of you. Give us seven orgasms and one of us will enter you, claim you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does that sound good to you, dear?” Will asked, handing Hannibal the wand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena nodded quickly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can make noise, as long as you keep your mouth open.” Hannibal dragged his thumb over her lips, pulling down her bottom jaw. He also pulled the blindfold down, smiling as he looked into her eyes. She caught sight of the silver wand and shivered. They were both already covered in a thin sheen of sweat and she was so close to the edge she craved she didn’t care how she got to be there any more. She just wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He clicked a button and the wand buzzed to life, he pressed onto her and she jerked from the intensity. “Good, very good, let it consume you. It’s all that matters.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena’s head swam as the pleasure overwhelmed her, rippling through her limbs as she shook. In the corner of her eye she watched as Will knelt before Hannibal and unzipped his pants, pulling them down as Hannibal stepped out of them, still watching her. Lena’s eyes fixated on his cock, he was long and hard, a drop of pre cum glistening off the tip. But soon Will’s mouth was around him and she felt her body start to shake as the orgasm neared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Careful.” Hannibal warned, a heaviness in his voice. “Not yet.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please…” Lena moaned, her eyes starting to roll back. “Please… please…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal's hand cupped the back of her neck as he tilted her forward to look in his eyes. “Look at me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena looked at him, his eyes taking up her vision. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cum.” And she did, exploding over the wand, only for another wave to hit her harder and meaner. But he didn’t let up. “Keep cumming, count.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Two…” It rolled over her, legs shaking as she screamed out. The pressure turned from savory to fire as he kept it pressed against her. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide and as her body spasmed around nothing she couldn’t hold back another peak even as it shook her with a slicing pain mixed with the heady pleasure.  “Three!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” Hannibal kissed her, swallowing her count scream as her body shook from the over stimulation. “Good…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He reached down and turned off the wand as Will continued to pleasure him, his hand touched Will’s head and he let up, leaning back between her legs. Lena was delirious, heaving in and out as the aftershocks continued to rock through her, he turned his head and kissed her slick thigh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve spent her.” Will laughed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal pulled him up and kissed him, murmuring something in his ear. Lena couldn’t pay attention, her mind was reeling. Will held her by the waist as Hannibal undid the ties around her wrists and ankles, as her body was freed she went slack and Will carried her to the bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you feel?” He asked as he kissed her neck, hovering over her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena groaned. She couldn’t put it into words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re beautiful.” He whispered as he kissed down her stomach. “Only three more.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her mind went clear as his meaning became apparent. Seven, is what Hannibal said, seven until one would finally take her. Lena looked back, the ceiling helping her to quell her breathe as Will made his way to her already spent center and licked a stripe from her ass to clit. She almost screamed right there, but he was slow and kept a pace that didn’t overwhelm her, teasing her to rise again. Hannibal sat next to her on the bed, trailing his fingers over her chest and neck as her breath deepened again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a little closer, dear.” Will encouraged, nuzzling against her so her thighs shook. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tip over again, Lena. I know you can.” Hannibal watched her carefully and she felt her inner walls clench again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will brought her to a light washed orgasm, it glistened over her skin and she mewled as the heaviness settled over her, but he didn’t stop, quickening his pace until she was near the edge again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Give me another, Lena.” He growled, picking up his pace again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal leaned down and bit into her neck as her hands wrapped around Will’s hair, she felt slight pain mixing with the intense pleasure, so unlike the wand. His lips and teeth littered her as once again Will brought her to climax, her toes curled and she moaned loudly, one hand coming up to Hannibal’s back and digging in with her nails as he bit harder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she fluttered down in a daze she heard Will groan, his fingers digging into her hips as he dragged her, boneless down to him only for Hannibal’s hand to stop him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only one more, Will.” Hannibal pulled back as Will released her, licking his swollen lips. “I believe it’s my turn.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Lena could recover her wits, Hannibal was hitching her up on his lap in a swift motion. She settled with her arms around his neck and her legs hugging his hips as he kissed her, his finger descending into her with quick precision as his thumb circled around her ravaged clit, giving it some reprieve. She was so wet he slid in easily, curling it ever so slightly before adding a second finger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena gasped as he found the small spot within her, stroking it quickly and steadily until she was nearing a different edge, a deeper cliffside. She pressed her head into his shoulder as he whispered in her ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That feeling inside you right now, Lena, that feeling is the ultimate play at fate. The ultimate reward for humanity. Chaos, decadence, losing the self in loo of others around the fires of Bachus. This is the final form of love, of the life we are given, to be at the brink of pleasure to live on the precipice of knowing, of existing, that you are not in control of the fall, that you will fall, the inevitability of it consumes you.” His words made a lucid sense as she bit back on his shoulder through the intensity. She was on the precipice, the ledge of ownership, his fingers would either take her there, plummet her down into the cavern, or leave her lost and seeking for this feeling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a trap, intricately produced to the point of inescapability. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fall into it. Now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kissed her hairline, almost chastely as he pressed down and she came once again with a strangled cry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will lifted her limp body around the waist and set her back on the edge of the bed as the last waves of her g-spot orgasm rocked through her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena laughed, feeling drunk, as Will climbed over her again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will, are you ready to claim her as our own?” Hannibal asked from behind him, pulling down Will’s pants until they all three stood nude in the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Will groaned as his erection was reveled, his eyes boring down into her. Lena pushed herself up on her shaking arms and took his face in her hands, of her own volition she pulled him down into a deep kiss. He leaned back slightly and studied her. “Are you ready, Lena?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In answer she kissed him again and he laid her back down, slowly pushing into her. Lena broke the kiss and groaned, it didn’t hurt exactly. It felt full and titillating, stretching through her core. A slight stab of pain shot through her as he bottomed out, his hips flush against her inner thighs. Will shushed her, kissing along her jaw and humming. He began to move back and forth, slowly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beautiful.” Hannibal whispered as he walked to the dresser to retrieve a bottle of something. Lena couldn’t pay much attention as she was focused on the feeling of being filled, the pain ebbed away and was replaced by a building pressure, so different from the other sensations they’d bestowed on her. It was almost odd as she floated through the act she could simply let his eyes guide her, swallow her. Suddenly, Will pulled her up to him flush and she rocketed back to earth, gripping onto his shoulders like life itself. His pace slowed as Hannibal took her by the back of the neck from behind Will, his other hand holding onto Will’s waist as he worked into him before entering him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will moaned open mouth onto Lena’s collarbone, quickening his pace as Lena gripped him back. Each thrust rocked his pubic bone against her burning clit. Hannibal’s hand held her flush to Will as he too quickened his pace. They melted into a puddle of oneness, all three tangled among the others as pleasure coursed through them. Lena lost any semblance of herself as an individual entity, she was one with the bodies of these men as they rocked through her and each other. The world did not exist, any moment beyond did not exist as his lips-- no matter which-- pressed into hers once again and she came. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His fingers tightened around her throat as he whispered, “let go.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>White light filled her vision as she let herself freely ride out the waves and waves of ecstasy. Will followed shortly after with a groan and she felt him release inside her. Last came Hannibal's quick huffs of breath and another moan from Will as his hand tightened around her neck and his teeth dug into Will’s shoulder, marking his climax. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stilled and Hannibal’s hand lightened and trailed from her neck, they let her lay back on the bed as Will moved to lay next to her, breathing hard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did that feel, Lena?” Hannibal breathed over her knee as he leaned down in front of her. She couldn’t sit up quite yet but laughed instead. They both also laughed until the three of them were smiling at the wildness they’d just experienced. Nothing else made sense, it was like drowning, drowning in them. She would do it again in a heartbeat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Transcended.” She answered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal smiled again, and pulled her up. “You should use the restroom, not overtly romantic, but important.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena nodded and stood on shaky legs, his hand solid on her arm as she stumbled to the bathroom attached and went inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she emerged Will was under the covers of the massive bed, his eyes slipping into sleep. Hannibal was turning down the other side and nodded with his head for her to climb in. Lena did so, tucking her legs under the covers as Will’s arm wove around her and pulled her possessively against him, his lips prickling the back of her neck. She watched as Hannibal turned off the lights before climbing into the other side of the bed. He sat up, flicking on the table lamp and picking up his sketchbook. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shh, go to sleep.” He murmured, pushing her hair back before running his hand through Will’s as well. Lena smiled, and closed her eyes, Will’s heartbeat lulling her off into a deep sleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t dream. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thanks for reading! your comments bring me joy to know im not the only kinky fuck out there ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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